


Partially to Blame

by tamlane



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Age Difference, Cross-Generation Relationship, F/M, Older Man/Younger Woman, Sexual Fantasy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-05
Updated: 2013-04-05
Packaged: 2017-12-07 13:39:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 486
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/749140
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tamlane/pseuds/tamlane
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Rose thinks her family is at least partially to blame for her fascination with Draco Malfoy.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Partially to Blame

**Author's Note:**

> Written for **hp_humpdrabbles**. This pairing makes me so happy. I wish there were more of it. (February 2013)

Rose knew about Draco Malfoy. In fact, she felt that her family was at least partially to blame for her fascination with him. 

Whenever his name was mentioned by her father or Uncle Harry, it was in grumbled accusations of the most deliciously scandalous variety. His public relations firm was a lie factory used to gloss over the reputations of those that MLE could not pin down. His florist shop was a front for money laundering. Even – and this was the most ludicrous, in Rose’s opinion – his purchase and rebranding of the Dundee Ridgebacks Quidditch team was nothing but an overblown prostitution scheme.

Draco Malfoy was obviously a puppeteer, and Rose wanted to spend just one day being his puppet.

She envisioned him surveying Wizarding London through the floor-to-ceiling windows of his office in Diagon Alley, fingers folded thoughtfully beneath his chin. And she imagined being on her knees in front of him, her lips stretched wetly around his cock, nose nestled into the silvery hair at his groin, breathing in the scent of power and musk as she bobbed up and down on his length and felt his fingers tighten in her hair as though he were pulling her strings.

She felt sure that Malfoy was the type of man who would greet his own orgasm with a chuckle.

When his name was mentioned by the women in her family, the tone was slightly different. Aunt Ginny had heard that his wife left him because of his dalliances with much younger women and had said that she would not put it past him. Aunt Angelina thought it really was a shame that he was such an insufferable prat because he did have lovely eyes and good taste in Chasers. Victoire had heard he had a huge cock. And even her own mother often countered her father’s grumbles with an admonitory _Now, Ron, that’s uncalled for!_ and a slight blush.

Rose felt the same blush creeping into her own cheeks as she hypothesized that a static charge must fill the air when one was alone in a room with Draco Malfoy, and how very much she would like to test that theory. She wanted to feel the danger of his long fingers around her throat as he carelessly yanked and pushed her clothes out of his way. She wanted to hear threats and insults whispered in her ear as a counterpoint to thrusts that were too languid to please but much too deep to be called gentle. She wanted to know firsthand that this was a man who fully deserved his bad reputation, and she wanted to be grabbed, bent, pinched, bitten—

“—seats in the top box. So, Rose, what do you say?”

Rose looked up into the eager face of Scorpius Malfoy, which bore no trace of Draco’s angularity and little of his arrogance, and she swallowed heavily. “Will your father be there?”

_The End_


End file.
